


Egg

by RainbowArches



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:05:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3668544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowArches/pseuds/RainbowArches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip transforms and is whisked away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rebirth

He felt himself disappear. He felt himself turn to stone and slowly crumble into dust. He didn’t feel the shard that was imbedded in his stomach. He saw it, but he didn’t care about that. He was sad to leave, sad not to be able to see what happened next. Sad because he knew his friends would miss him. But he wasn’t dying, that much he knew. He was changing, transforming. He didn’t know what he would become, didn’t know what to expect, didn’t really care. He watched everything go, knowing nothing would be the same and he wouldn’t be here to experience it; knowing he wouldn’t be the same and no one would have any idea.

He left himself. Something separated from his body as it crumbled and molded into something else, just the beginning of a beginning, like a universe planning its own birth. He was something else now, or he would be soon, safe and secluded, waiting.

_“Sir? We finished another corridor.”_

_“Good work, Simmons. How much longer?”_

_“Not much longer, sir. Two more after this.”_

_“Any sign of Raina?”_

_“Not yet. I’m sure she’ll turn up soon. But, sir, if she doesn’t, shall I carry on as planned?”_

_“That’s your call. Whatever you think is best.”_

_“Understood, sir.”_

_“….any sign of Trip?”_

_“…we found… some of him.”_

_“Finish up as soon as you can.”_

 

In the dark recesses of the cavern, hidden from the echoing footsteps and the scitch-scatching  and commands of the miners and the scientists, something small and warm and still fought for attention from underneath the rubble, screaming silently in the lonely emptiness where no one could hear it, hopeful, desperate, and scared, until finally it found its voice in a small shining glimmer like the sharp glint of a dagger, peaking through the cracks of the bits and pieces that covered it, lighting the room for a split second, and illuminating itself, golden silver-black. It fell into dark again in a blink.

It vibrated there, exuding heat and energy, very much alive and waiting, but no one noticed.

 

Everything smelled. The damp, the dust, the mold, the dark, the blood and sweat of the people, the plastic of their clothes, the metal of their equipment, the oldness of the place, the mood, the despair, the bustle, the anxiety. They’d brought in smells from outside, too. Sea salt, food vendors, dirt, oil, shampoo, ink, beer, strangers.

She sat up and felt herself bleed from a dozen needles brushing her skin. She felt herself pop apart with every movement, like someone was snapping every part of her like a pencil. The color of the darkness had changed; she was seeing through a lens that was bloody around the rim. She felt sick and scared and restless. She had to get out. She had to hide. She had to find out.

 

Right on time, Gordon jumped to Trip’s rescue in an electric haze of silver and blue. He brushed through the rubble, searching until he found it. He picked up the egg, smiling as he ran his fingers over the smooth, hard shell, his fingertips falling into the tiny dimples and scratching against the rough metallic patches. It responded to his touch with happy fiery warmth. Gordon clutched it protectively to his chest and vanished home before the floods came.


	2. Hatchling

An awareness of itself was growing. It didn’t know what it was, but it knew it was something. And there was something familiar about this situation, this process. It was vaguely aware of something else, too; there was something other than itself, always there. These weren’t really thoughts or feelings or anything like that. Just something that was there when nothing else was there, until it was ready.

 

Gordon sat cross-legged on the floor, one elbow on his knee, his fist mashing into his cheek, his other hand occasionally reaching into the fireplace to poke the egg. He spent all his time in this position, utterly bored, ever since he found the thing, when he wasn’t picking people up. It would be easier if he knew what to expect. Well, it was an egg. The thing had to hatch, right? But he had no idea what kind of egg it was. He had no idea what was going to crawl out of that shell when it broke. He had his suspicions, but… He hoped he wasn’t overcooking it. Maybe a fire was too much heat. But no, he could still feel it breathing. He could feel it concentrating very hard. He sat up a little straighter in anticipation.

Still no sign of movement.

Oh, well. He couldn’t sit around here all day. He had a friend to rescue.

He stood up, dusted himself off, and zapped himself out of here.

 

The egg twitched.

 

Skye has been hurried down a lot of halls lately, but this was different. Gordon’s grip was gentle and he was excited about something. “I just realised, you have a friend here!” And off they went. She couldn’t think of any friends who could have ended up here. Unless he meant Raina, in which case she could do without a reunion.

It was a cozy hall, with cozy art and cozy doors that probably led to cozy rooms. The lighting was warm and the colors were soothing. There was a window at the end, and though it was too dark to see outside, she was sure the view was beautiful. She didn’t mind being hurried along this time. There was nothing to be scared of.

Gordon pulled her into a room that felt like a sauna and looked like a library-turned-smithy. He led her to the fireplace and knelt in front of it, beckoning for her to do the same. She crouched next to him and peered into the fire.

She looked Gordon.

“I’ve never been friends with eggs.”

He gave her a weird smile, like he was amused but was pretending to be surprised. “You don’t recognize him?”

“No. Should I?”

He shrugged. “Maybe not. It’ll come to you.”

She looked back at the egg, large, black, and scaly, occasionally glinting silver or gold, sitting there, and seeming to _stare_ at her, seeming also to _enjoy_ the heat and the company, and if she stared back long enough, it started to look familiar.

The egg twitched.

And then it cracked.

 

He didn’t fit in here anymore. He didn’t like it in here anymore. Something was happening that he couldn’t see, that he wanted to see. He stretched and kicked and scratched restlessly, suddenly able to open his eyes and move his limbs and know what to do with them. He had purpose behind these movements, behind this awareness. He wanted out. He wanted to see.

 

“It’s hatching!”

“I know.”

A foot came first, with little claws, then a snout, then a smaller foot- probably from an arm- and what was probably the end of a tail. Everything that popped out looked like the shell that enclosed it, but softer and delicate. Skye wanted to reach in and peal the shards away.

“Let him do it himself,” Gordon said, as though sensing her intention.

Two brown eyes blinked at them, and a pair of heavy, useless wings unfolded on each side. A long thin tail swished happily side-side-side, and he made a sound like a growl and a purr in greeting.

“It’s a dragon, right?” said Gordon, tense with excitement. “Tell me it’s a dragon.”

Skye grinned. “Yep. Looks like a dragon.”

The dragon crawled out of the fire and brushed up against Skye’s palms. He climbed into her lap and sniffed at her leather jacket. Deciding he liked it, he burrowed into her and tried to make a nest out of it.

There was something very familiar about him. His warmth, his cheeky eyes, his friendliness, his happy low growls, his whole personality, even though he was only thirty seconds old, was all so familiar.

“Wait. _Trip?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting into dragon!Trip now, so I'll probably just update as I feel like it.


	3. Familiar

Skye dangled her skewer with the last of her chicken spiedies over the arm of the chair, and Trip pounced on them, gobbling them up greedily. In her other hand she held a pamphlet, which she stared at with bored, glazed eyes. It was late and she was exhausted.

“You guys don’t seem like the type to let pamphlets do all the talking.”

Gordon glanced at her over his shoulder before turning back to the bookshelf, running his finger along the spines, skimming for an interesting title. “It gets busy here sometimes,” he said.

“Well, you have got to make these things less boring,” Skye declared, and threw her pamphlet aside with a yawn. “Why do I need one anyway? You already gave me the grand tour.”

“Everyone gets a pamphlet. It’s common for nothing to sink in the first time. It can be difficult to see through the initial haze of shock and fear and awe, so we have to make sure all the information is readily available whenever people are ready. You don’t have to read it. We also have a PowerPoint and a short film, if you’d prefer. They’re slightly dated, but-”

“I’m good.” Skye rubbed her eyes, yawned again, and stretched. She sunk further into her chair and folded her hands behind her head. She should go to bed and get some sleep, but she didn’t want to wake up and find out this was all a dream. Trip was here, alive and well and cute as hell, and Gordon’s presence was very calming.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Anything on dragons. Trip is the first one we’ve had here, that I’m aware of, and I want to know what to expect.”

“Really? Trip’s the first?” She peered over the arm of the chair at him. “Bet you’re loving that.”

Trip, who had devoured the chicken and was falling into a food induced nap, burped in agreement. A puff of smoke came out.

“You can expect a major fire hazard, I’m guessing,” Skye said to Gordon.

He dismissed that comment with a wave. “He hasn’t set any fires yet.”

Skye heard scratching, and then Trip’s head appeared behind the arm of the chair. He crawled up and slid into her lap, curling into her jacket, purring contentedly. There was something about leather that he seemed to like.

Skye reached over the arm to feel for any holes, wincing when she found some. “You’re also going to need stronger upholstery.”

Gordon didn’t seem concerned. He pulled a book from the shelf and sat down on the couch to peruse.

“What’s that?”

“Fairy tales.”

“Think they’ll be useful?”

“You never know.”

Skye fell silent, letting him read in peace, preferring instead to scratch Trip’s head with her finger and rest her eyes.

She wondered how much of her old friend was in this tiny dragon body. There was something unmistakably _Trip_ about him, but maybe she was seeing what she wanted to see. This Trip was brand new. He was starting life all over again as something else. But there had to be something there. She _knew_ there was something there. She felt it in the way he responded to her, the way he seemed to immediately recognize her. This was still her old friend, just a different version of him.

Trip nudged her hand. She looked down at him. He was staring up at her with knowing, reassuring eyes. There he was. That was all him, she was sure of it. She looked up and saw Gordon smiling at her, amused.

“He can feel you overthinking,” he said. “And so can I. You should go to bed.”

 

Raina lifted her head from its resting place on the table to look at the vase of flowers that Jiaying placed in front of her.

“What are these?” she asked tiredly.

“Flowers,” Jiaying answered. “Do you remember flowers? You used to adorn yourself with them all the time. You won’t go outside so I’ll bring the outside to you.”

Raina turned away from the bouquet, slouching so that the hood of her cloak obscured her vision even further.

“I don’t like flowers anymore. They laugh at me.”

“There’s no need for the melodrama,” Jiaying said, wandering around the room, straightening things up. “We have a beautiful garden. You should see it. I think it will cheer you up. It will just be the two of us. Everyone else is asleep.”

Raina merely sighed.

“Or perhaps tomorrow you’d like to meet our newest guest.”

“I don’t want to talk to Skye,” Raina said, folding into herself and hissing as her thorns scraped against her skin.

Jiaying went over and gently rested a hand on her back.

“No, not Skye. Someone else who came out of the wreckage. I think he might be able to help you.”

Raina frowned. This was the first she’d heard of anyone other than her and Skye surviving the wreckage. The only other person with them had been Agent Triplett. Had he survived after all? She was curious, but she didn’t want to face anyone yet. She was still feeling sad and stubborn. “No one can help me.”

“Think about it, at least. Try to sleep.”

Raina heard the smile in Jiaying’s voice, and she knew she’d lost this fight.

 

Trip blinked awake. He looked around the room. It was still dark, but he could see perfectly. He had a sense that that hadn’t always been the case, but he wasn’t bothered. This was how he existed now and it was nice.

He’d been dreaming about something. He couldn’t remember what. Familiar faces that he couldn’t name. Skye had been there. There was definitely something familiar about her. He couldn’t place it, though. Oh well.

He curled up with his nose under his tail, ready to sleep some more. Skye had left him her jacket as a blanket. He’d feigned sleep so that she would carry him to his room, figuring she was his best bet for getting spoiled around here. The jacket smelled strongly of leather and faintly of her hair, and it lured him into dreams of more faces that he was sure he’d seen before, places that he was sure he’d been, they felt so far away and he was too sleepy to worry right now.


	4. Meeting

 When Jiaying left for bed, Raina decided a walk was a good idea, and if she paid a visit to a certain newcomer along the way, well, that was her business.

She walked through the grass bare foot, her cloak trailing behind her. She did this when she was little all the time, play in the backyard in the middle of the night when her grandmother was asleep, and let the grass tickle her toes. It didn’t tickle anymore, but it did feel soft like a carpet.

She kept her hood down since there was no one around to see her. The breeze refreshed her, caressing her face and soothing her skin, blowing so gently through her spikes that for the first time she forgot they were there, because for the first time they didn’t cause her pain.

The garden was very pretty, and she was begrudgingly enchanted by the flowers. She touched each one with the point of her claw as she passed, and they stayed as beautiful as ever, unharmed. She was pleased not to be destruction incarnate; she still had control. She was also glad, though she wasn’t sure why, that while her eyes pierced the darkness easily, the night still looked and felt like night. Perhaps she was a night creature now.

She was in front of the main building, sort of a villa, which she assumed housed Gordon and Skye and which she was sure housed the newcomer Jiaying had mentioned. The newcomer- Trip, almost certainly- was what drew her here and was what compelled her to enter.

She could see that a lot of effort went into making the place look inviting. Soft furniture, warm colors, open windows, a few well-placed plants, plenty of space. She was sure it did the trick for most normal visitors, but she didn’t feel welcome. But something was calling her in. Or maybe she just really wanted to see. She made her way upstairs.

She crept down the hall, her hand running along the wall until it found a door that wanted to be opened.

Inside there was a jacket lying in a heap on the floor, and it was breathing. As she debated whether or not to peer under it, it heaved a heavy sigh, and a dragon about the size on a rabbit crawled out from under it. It- Trip, clearly; she could tell by the eyes- stared up at her patiently.

She stared back, not sure what to do or how to feel. She wasn’t interested in doing anything with this new information. Trip had survived and had transformed into a dragon. So what? Good for him.

He looked completely different now, more different than her. It was a wonder she even recognized him. How could he be so calm about this, so content? He was sleeping alone on the floor. He probably couldn’t do anything. He didn’t look like he’d spit impressive flames and she doubted those wings were flightworthy. That should be frustrating but he didn’t seem frustrated. He didn’t seem lonely or scared or at all bothered by her presence. He was taking this remarkably well. It annoyed her.

But fine. If he was adjusting to this change with such ease she could at least try to do the same.

 

Trip stared up at the stranger impassively. She wasn’t a stranger. He knew her, and he was sure he wasn’t supposed to like her, but there was something confused about her. She smelled like a threat, but not really. It was more of a lingering smell that was going away, leaving a sad, lonely smell instead. In another life he would have been on his guard, but he didn’t feel the need now. She was only looking- longing and angry, or maybe resentful, but perfectly harmless.

She was covered in thorns, and he rather liked them. Maybe that’s why he felt no threat from her. The thorns made her look honest. There was nothing false about them. Why that was significant to him, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he wouldn’t mind if she joined him here on the floor for a nap, and he wouldn’t mind if she didn’t.

He yawned, showing his teeth and letting out a throaty growl. He curled up, tangling himself in the jacket and went to sleep.

 

She decided to take that as her cue to leave, though she knew she didn’t have to. But she saw what she wanted to see, and she supposed she felt a little better for it.

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case it wasn't clear, Trip is the egg. He is a dragon now.


End file.
